Just a Friend

I’ve taken a bit of a television hiatus, in terms of finding new shows, anyway, because it’s summer, we’ve been busy, and whatever, there’s Big Brother, mock me if you will. But every night before we went to bed, Adam would watch It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and shake the damn bed with laughter while I glared at him in an obnoxious highbrow manner over the top of my book.

He finally broke me down, and PEOPLE. I CANNOT STOP. It’s easily the funniest, most wildly inappropriate show I’ve seen in years. I’m howling! I’m crying! I’m feeling terribly dirty because I’m laughing uproariously at the absurd pleasure the characters are taking in finding — and trying on — a Nazi uniform, and that sounds worse than it is, kind of, but you must trust me: HILARITY ENSUED. I … oh, it’s terrible and hilarious and so offensive, while at the same time smartly acknowledging its offensiveness, and, well, I feel like everyone should go get it and watch it. Unless you’re very sensitive, in which case, I don’t know what to tell you, because it’s possible you’re reading the wrong blog, maybe? I’m not sure.

Anyway. I have failed to mention that Sunny once again continues to be the bane of our existence, while also managing to be the primary sleep-stealer, making up for all those months that a squalling baby kept her from her deep puggy slumber. While I was at BlogHer, she was overcome with such a disastrous stomach ailment that Adam was up every two hours (like a NEWBORN) to take her outside to either barf or poop, and to be honest, the majority of the baby wipes in this house were being used to WIPE THE DOG’S BUM.

THE DOG’S BUM.

THE DOG’S BUM.

This is how, upon my return, I ended up waiting in a 24-hour pharmacy for a prescription to be filled for my dog. A dog whose prescription was borked (barked?) on four separate occasions because the pharmacist not only could not find my dog as an existing patient in the insurance database (BECAUSE SHE IS A DOG), but was consistently trying to fill a prescription for a human named — wait for it:

Funny Rubin.

FUNNY RUBIN.

After waiting and calling and waiting and calling, and talking and waiting and mass confusion, the pharmacist, who to my knowledge has a DEGREE and everything, stopped and said, “Wait: are you Funny Rubin? I’ve been trying to call you!”

Aaaand, scene.

She finished her last pill today. This is her third round of this flora-encouraging antibiotic (a paradox if I ever heard one) and if I wake up in the middle of the night tonight to wipe her bum, I will seriously consider selling her to the highest bidder. Or perhaps the first person willing to buy me a jumbo pack of Starburst. Whichever.

In other housekeeping-y news, a few of us are in the process of putting together a Boston blogger (and the readers who love them) meet-up. As a result, would you kindly let me know, either in the comments, or via email (the contact form above does go to my email, swearsies), so that we can keep you in the loop, as the kids say?

Also, HA HA, embarrassing fun fact: A reader recognized me in Barnes & Noble a few weeks ago, and she was adorable and funny and a mom! A mom of two! Who lives kind of near me! And I loved her, even though I was shocked and sort of stammer-y, for it happens so rarely to begin with, but it happens even MORE rarely that someone recognizes MY DAUGHTER before they realize who I am. And yes, I had to ask her name TWICE because I was so flustered and … well, so I said we should get together sometime! And she should email me her contact information!

No email. Sad panda. Which goes to show you that apparently there are times — quite a few of them, I reckon — that I translate very poorly in person. So attend the meet-up at your own risk.

(CALL ME, JOANNA. NOT TO SOUND DESPERATE OR ANYTHING.)

(Ha ha?)

Happy Wednesday!

*Biz Markie. Who is coming with DJ Lance and the Yo Gabba Gabba clan to Boston, and I’m totally considering buying tickets and … oh dear. They are not cheap. This is not rational, right? I mean, she might freak out! She might not make it! AND YET. DJ LANCE IN THE FLIZESH. *fans self*

52 comments August 24th, 2010